Aetheric Chronicles: Reborn As An Extra

A low murmur of agreement rippled through the room after Nymera's provocative words. It started with a few uneasy glances, then grew into bolder statements, as the powerful figures in the Hall found their voices.

"She's right," one of the merchant lords sneered, his voice dripping with disdain. "You sit there, acting as if you're better than us, yet you built that medicine empire during a time of crisis. Shouldn't you be out there helping?"

Another elite, this time a lady draped in jewels, pointed an accusing finger. "All your words, but where's your action, Evangeline? You're quick to judge, but what are you doing about this?"

A few others chimed in, emboldened by the accusations.

"Why lecture us, Evangeline? Didn't you make a fortune off the suffering of the poor?" one barked from the back.

"Your business has been booming. Shouldn't you be the one saving the city, given how much you've gained from it?"

Evangeline remained silent, her veiled face unreadable, letting the accusations fester. The tension in the room thickened as more voices joined the chorus, the wealthy and powerful attempting to deflect their own guilt, their voices rising in a wave of self-righteous indignation.

"..."

And then… she laughed.

"Hehe.. hehe..."

The sound echoed through the grand hall, chilling and mocking, cutting through the din of voices like a blade. It wasn't the laughter of someone who had been defeated or cornered—it was something darker, sharper. There was a dangerous edge to it, something sinister and sarcastic, as though she was amused by the sheer absurdity of it all.

Evangeline's lips rose, her figure imposing despite the calm, graceful way she moved. Her laugh faded into a smirk as she slowly lowered her hands to her sides.Nôv(el)B\\jnn

"I would expect nothing less from the likes of you," she said, her voice dripping with derision. The room fell into a heavy silence again as all eyes focused on her. "How typical, to shift the blame onto anyone but yourselves."

She took a slow step forward, her voice steady and calm, but with a poisonous edge. "Let me guess—you think this is my fault? That me or the those outside supposed to save you because you've all been too lazy, too cowardly, to even lift a finger when the city burns?"

Her eyes swept across the room, daring anyone to speak. "Ah, but of course," she continued with a mocking smile, "I understand now. You don't want to lose money, do you? You'd rather sit here, watching from behind your precious barrier, cursing everyone who isn't as rich and 'powerful' as you while the city crumbles. Isn't that the real reason none of you are out there?"

The tension in the room snapped like a taut wire. A few of the more prideful elites rose to their feet, their faces red with indignation, but before any could speak, a loud voice boomed from the back.

"Catch that bitch!"

Heads whipped toward the source of the voice, where a large, broad-shouldered figure stood up from one of the lavish tables. It was one of the merchant kings—a man known for his vicious reputation behind closed doors, though he always presented himself as a more-than-average, respectable businessman in public.

His face was flushed with anger, his eyes gleaming with a mixture of lust and fury as he barked, "Don't ruin her face! I want her alive!"

At his command, several intimidating figures emerged from the shadows—muscle-bound men in dark, sleek armor, clearly hired for their ruthlessness. They stepped toward Evangeline, their eyes narrowed, hands ready to grab her at a moment's notice.

Evangeline, however, didn't flinch. Her eyes flickered with cold amusement as she watched the guards approach, her lips curling into a dark, knowing smile. Behind her veil, her gaze seemed to cut through the air, icy and unyielding.

"Ah," she murmured softly, as though to herself, "I was wondering when you'd show your true colors."

The merchant king leered at her, stepping forward, emboldened by the sight of his men closing in. "You think you can talk to us like that, Evangeline? You're nothing more than a pretty face who got lucky. But me... I'm going to make you pay for that mouth of yours." He licked his lips, his eyes gleaming as they traced her figure.

The room was thick with tension as the hired enforcers edged closer to Evangeline, their expressions grim and predatory. The other elites looked on in a mix of fear and morbid fascination, unsure whether to side with the merchant king or wait and see how things would unfold.

Nymera, still seated in her shadowed alcove, watched with cool indifference, her sharp eyes glittering with amusement. She wasn't going to interfere—not yet. There was still too much entertainment to be had.

But Evangeline, calm and unshaken, let out another soft laugh.

"Fools," she said, her voice soft yet scathing. "Do you really think you can touch me?"

The merchant king sneered. "Oh, I know we can." He nodded toward his men. "Grab her."

The moment the first of the enforcers reached for Evangeline, the air around her shimmered, a strange and unsettling ripple spreading outward like a shockwave.

Then, in an instant, the nearest guard was thrown back, crashing into the wall with bone-crushing force. His body crumpled to the floor, unconscious or worse, while the others froze in their tracks, eyes wide with fear.

Evangeline stood still, her hands elegantly folded before her, untouched and unbothered, as though nothing had happened.

The merchant king's confident expression faltered. "What the hell—"

But before he could finish, Evangeline's voice cut through the air once more, colder than ice.

"I warned you," she said, her gaze locking onto the merchant king. "Now, you will pay the price."

Swish.

Before anyone could fully comprehend what was happening, the scene turned into a blur of shadows. A swift, almost invisible motion slashed through the room, moving faster than any of their eyes could follow.

Thud.

The heads of the merchant king's men hit the floor, one after another, as blood sprayed into the air. Their bodies crumpled like discarded puppets, limbs twitching before going still.

"Hehe, bit-!"

The merchant king himself, frozen in shock, barely had time to gasp before his own head rolled from his shoulders, landing with a dull thud on the marble floor. The once-proud sneer on his face remained locked in place, a grotesque mockery of the arrogance he once wore.

Blood pooled across the floor, dark and glistening under the chandelier's light.

"A-ARGHH!"

"B-Blood-!"

"D-Dead!"

Gasps of horror echoed through the hall as the elites recoiled, stumbling over themselves to get away from the grisly sight.

Those with weaker wills—merchants, nobles, people used to commanding with words rather than actions—cried out in terror. A few fainted outright, their eyes rolling back as they collapsed onto the floor. Others screamed, clutching at their chests or desperately trying to push past each other to escape the carnage.

Chaos erupted.

But amidst the hysteria, a handful of the room's more hardened attendees remained rooted to their spots, eyebrows raised in shock—or, in a few cases, thinly veiled fascination. Some, their curiosity piqued, leaned in to watch the unfolding scene with dark smiles playing on their lips, intrigued by the sudden and efficient display of violence.

Nymera remained seated, her gaze gleaming with a rare flicker of amusement. She tilted her head slightly, watching the spectacle with a quiet, almost predatory interest, as though weighing the consequences and savoring the tension in the air.

Amid the panic and bloodshed, Evangeline stood perfectly still, untouched by the carnage, her expression one of cold satisfaction. Her eyes, sharp as a blade, gleamed beneath her veil, and as the room fell into stunned silence, she allowed a soft smile to grace her lips.

From the shadows behind her, a figure emerged—a creature, sleek and deadly, with a presence that matched the darkness it came from.

A medium-sized, panther-like beast stepped forward, its fur inky black and smooth as night. Dark wings extended from its sides, rippling with shadow as though they were made of the void itself. The creature's glowing yellow eyes fixated on the blood-stained floor for a moment before it padded gracefully to Evangeline's side.

She reached out, her fingers brushing over the creature's head with an almost affectionate touch. "Thank you, Abby," she murmured, her voice gentle now, the same way one might speak to an old friend.

The beast—Abby—pressed its head against her hand in response, a low, rumbling purr emanating from its chest, though its eyes remained as sharp and vigilant as ever. It was obvious this guy was responsible for what happened to these poor and arrogant souls.

Evangeline turned around, her gaze sweeping over the room, lingering on the faces of the elites—those who were still conscious, still watching, some trembling, others in awe. "Now," she added softly, her tone almost teasing, "Which one of you wishes to test me next?"

"..."

There was only silence.